


The Mermaid Who Dreamt of Flying

by tigriswolf



Series: written for school [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, F/F, F/M, Family, Fantasy, Gen, Magic, Ocean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 16:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1611044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knew the story, though most were sure it had never happened.  All of the versions had the princess swimming east, toward the light.  Somewhere in the deep, after the light ended, there was a gloomy cave where no light went.  There, if you were brave, was the witch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Story

**Author's Note:**

> So, I took a Children's Literature course this past semester and one of the requirements was writing a children's book. I had all kinds of ideas, and then this idea popped into my head: a little mermaid who wanted to be a bird. *shrugs* I have all sorts of ideas for turning this into a novel, but I'll probably never get around to it. 
> 
> (I got an A in the class, by the way. My third semester in grad school, I finally got a 4.0! *dances*)

Once upon a time, in the deepest part of the ocean, where Atlantis is hidden from the land folk’s sight, there was the youngest daughter of a teacher and a healer. Like all merchildren, she and her little brother and her big sister grew up on the stories of the sea princess, youngest daughter of the sea king, who went to the sea witch to become a land folk and left the ocean to live on land with her prince. 

Marianna, the eldest child of the teacher and the healer, scoffed at ever leaving the ocean. Taliesin, the youngest and only boy, thought it sounded like a grand adventure, but would prefer to swim. And Annalyn, the dreamer, would replay the story in her mind every night as she fell asleep. 

They lived in Atlantita, the capitol of Atlantis. Annalyn’s father was a professor at the nearby Atlantis University; he taught the history of the oceans. Her mother was a healer who worked mostly with the old and infirm. Her sister was well on her way to being the greatest artist of Atlantis while her little brother was still in the middle of his schooling. Annalyn herself worked at the royal palace, as apprentice to Queen Alina V’s own personal chef.

At breakfast on Charymar, before Annalyn left for the week, Taliesin told her, “Don’t forget about my play! I’m playing the Sea Witch’s minion – I actually have lines!” 

Annalyn laughed. “Of course I won’t forget, tadpole,” she said, kissing his forehead and then calling, “Bye, Mom, Dad!” before swimming to the shuttle station, where Mar the Whalebus picked up everyone commuting to the palace at the beginning of their work-week. 

While she waited for everyone to settle into place on Mar’s back, Annalyn lightly gripped the handholds and tilted her head up, searching for the light from the sun – some flickered down, but not enough to make out the sky. She sighed, glancing back at her companions: Davisa, the steward’s apprentice, and Trivason, the court historian. 

“Did you have a good weekend, Anna?” Davisa asked her. 

“Of course,” she answered, and the three of them discussed their activities all the way to the palace. 

.

Annalyn was the apprentice to the personal chef of Queen Alina V. It wasn’t exactly what she’d dreamed about as a child, but Riana was Annalyn’s best friend’s mother and getting her the job had been a favor – but keeping it for three years was down to Annalyn’s skill.

“There will be a small banquet on Cetumar,” Riana told Annalyn first thing on Charymar, as she swam into the kitchens. “Spend this morning planning out the food for it.”

Annalyn turned in her menu at lunch, ate a quick meal, and then began preparing dinner for all the denizens of the palace while Riana read it over. 

“This is good,” she said, marking it up. “I’ve made a few notes. Take a break to look it over and ask if you have any questions.”

.

The week went by quickly; Riana gave full control of the dinner party to Annalyn as an assessment. She tried to give the preparations all of her attention, but for some reason her focus kept going to that story of the princess who fled the seas for land, to the too-few and scattered attempts she’d made to glimpse the sky.

Riana, of course, noticed her preoccupation and fussed at her, which settled down her wandering mind for a little while. But always, her thoughts returned to the sky.

On Scyllamar, Annalyn got so lost in a daydream of flying above the water that she nearly forgot to turn in her order of anemones; for the envoy from the Great Trench, anemone salad was a great delicacy, but it was not an ingredient kept handy in the kitchen because Queen Alina V’s consort, Prince Radir, detested the taste. To not have anemones, though, would’ve been a great insult to Princess Qein.

Annalyn turned in the order at the very last moment possible and heaved a great sigh of relief.

On Krakenmar, while Annalyn was meeting with Ursina, who’d been given charge of the decorations, Annalyn got lost in the mural on the Great Hall’s ceiling. It was decorated with the sky in various forms; the one that caught Annalyn so thoroughly was of a storm with the sun peeking out in the corner.

“Annalyn!” Ursina finally shouted. “Look here, girl! This banquet is very important, and if I have to talk to Riana, I will.” 

“I’m very sorry, Mistress Ursina,” Annalyn said, focusing on her. “Please, continue.”

On Luscamar, as they prepared for bed, Annalyn’s roommate, Shevar of the Phycodurus Clan, said, “Anna, you’ve got to get the dreaming under control.”

“I know, Shev,” she said softly, throwing herself onto her bed and snuggling into the kelp blanket.

“Tomorrow is the banquet,” Shevar continued. “You have _got_ to be perfect.”

“I know, Shev!” Annalyn said again. “I know.” 

On Cetumar, the last day of the week and the day of the banquet, early in the morning, Riana asked Annalyn, “Tell me, child – are you prepared for tonight?”

Shamefully, Annalyn shook her head. “I’m not sure what’s wrong,” she confessed. “I haven’t been sleeping and my mind keeps swimming in a hundred directions at once.”

Riana sighed. “If you can’t focus, then you’ll be removed from duty for tonight.”

“I’m sorry!” Annalyn said. “I know how important this is.”

“You’ve been very busy this week,” Riana told her. “This is an important dinner, maybe too important for an apprentice. Envoys from all seven of the sea realms are attending.” When Annalyn lowered her gaze, Riana put a hand on her shoulder. “There will be more chances to prove yourself,” she promised gently. “You’re very young.”

“I’m sorry,” Annalyn murmured.

Riana squeezed her shoulder. “Go home, Annalyn. Take today and the weekend to discover why you’ve been so lost, lately.”

“Yes, Mistress Riana,” she said.

.

Annalyn didn’t go home. She swam straight up, faster than she ever had before, and broke the surface with a gasp.

The sky was enormous. It stretched as far the sea and farther still. She held her breath as she watched fluffy white things float across the blue sky – they looked as soft as the foam that sometimes built up in her sister’s garden. She let out the breath and sank back under to take another.

The wind was warm; at least, she thought it was wind. Papa had explained about it once, about how the land folk’s ships needed the wind to move. Wind and air – to move ships, and to breathe, like Annalyn breathed the water. Just like the current that moved the water, except out in the nothingness above. 

Annalyn wanted to feel more so she dove down and down, and then lunged back up, faster and faster, until she flew out of the water. She laughed, feeling the air all over her before smoothly cutting back into the water. 

Again and again she flew out of the water, managing to go higher and higher. As she played, the sun began to set across the ocean. “Oh,” she whispered, watching the sky turn colors. “Oh, my.” She floated on the surface until the hunger pains were too much to ignore, until the moon was high over the water, and then with great regret, she turned and headed home. 

.

She had missed dinner, of course. She quickly tucked into the leftovers, diverting her parents’ concern with a made-up story about the party she had helped Riana plan. Taliesin was the perfect audience, asking all sorts of questions, and when Annalyn claimed that she was exhausted (true), her family let her go to bed without fuss. 

She rose early on Atlantimar, prepared herself a small breakfast and packed a lunch, left a note pinned to the front door, and swam for the surface. She spent all day splashing where the ocean met the sky, watching the birds fly overhead, and the fluffy white things. There were even a few ships in the distance, though she shied away from getting too close. 

When she got too hungry, Annalyn ate the lunch she’d brought and floated on the surface until she thought long enough had passed; then, she began leaping out of the water again, trying to get higher than she’d managed the day before. 

But eventually the sun set and the moon came out. Annalyn spent a little while trying to count the lights that glimmered far out of reach. They reminded her of the creatures from the deep, the ones her parents had always told her and her siblings to avoid, but up in the sky, they looked beautiful. 

She didn’t want to go home, but she hadn’t thought to bring dinner, so with a heavy sigh, she ducked back into the water and swam downwards.

.

“Annalyn, where were you all day?” Mom asked, and so Annalyn spun her family a nice story about traveling to see a nearby reef, trying to find ideas for the next banquet. 

Going to the surface had long been outlawed, and despite the legend of that princess, no one could imagine actually doing so. But Annalyn had, more than once, and how could she explain that? Or the fact that she’d be returning tomorrow. 

.

But in the morning, as she made herself a quick breakfast of oyster toast, Taliesin tried to swim stealthily into the kitchen. She pretended to not notice and just kept spreading the octopus ink on her oysters. 

Finally, Taliesin pounced on her tail, shouting, “I’ve got you!” 

“Oh, no!” she cried, letting her toast fall and whirling around, grabbing him as she went. “It’s the sea witch’s minion! I’m caught!” 

He laughed, collapsing her against for just a moment; she ran her fingers through his hair, wondering when he’d gotten so big. Probably while she was away at the palace, apprenticed to the personal chef of the queen. Annalyn sighed, letting him go. 

“Want some breakfast, tadpole?” she asked. “I’m making oyster toast.”

“Yeah!” he said, settling at the breakfast bar. “And after, you wanna help me practice for the play?” 

“Of course I will,” she said.

So she did. She spent all morning on Jormungmar acting out her little brother’s play; he had most of his lines down perfectly, but a few tripped him up, so they focused on those scenes the most. 

That afternoon, she went to the market for her mother, because Mama got called to her clinic for an emergency. By the time she put the groceries away, it was almost evening, so she started preparing dinner. 

Marianna and her mate Wyvinu came by for the meal, so Annalyn spun her story about the banquet again, and Taliesin talked all about his play, and Mom complained about problems at work, and Dad ranted about his students not caring about the history of their own society. Marianna was working on a new piece, for the Head of the Syngnathidae Clan, bigger and far more intricate than anything she’d done before. Wyvinu managed the largest bookstore in Atlantita, so she shared a few customer horror stories.

After dinner, Dad and Mom cleaned up the kitchen while Taliesin and Annalyn acted out two of his scenes from his upcoming play for Marianna and Wyvinu. “You’re going to be magnificent,” Marianna told him. “I wish I could come.” 

“We’ll see you in a month,” Mom said, swimming out of the kitchen. Dad followed a moment later. “We understand that this commission is important.” 

Marianna nodded, still looking a little sad. 

“It’s time we were going, Mari,” Wyvinu said. “Thank you for the lovely meal,” she added, directed towards Annalyn’s parents. “And you will do wonderfully in the play, Taliesin.” She gave Annalyn a quick hug and then waited at the door while Marianna’s goodbyes took longer. 

As Marianna and Wyvinu swam away, Taliesin threw his arms around Annalyn’s waist. “You have to be at my play, Anna,” he murmured into her belly. “You _have_ to.”

.

Annalyn woke up extra early on Tiamatmar. It was the one day where _everybody_ slept in. Nothing was open before lunch time except the hospital. Annalyn quickly prepared breakfast to eat while she swam and packed a lunch, then she was out the door and headed up. 

Instead of jumping out of the water over and over, she just floated on the surface until she felt hungry enough to eat, watching the sky. Skyfish ( _birds_ , Dad called them) swam through the bright blue, and the fluffy white things ( _clouds_ , her dictionary said they were), and she watched and watched and watched.

As the sun set again, Annalyn realized what she had to do: find the sea witch. Because she needed to fly. The wondering was just too much.

.

Everyone knew the story, though most were sure it had never happened. All of the versions had the princess swimming east, toward the light. Somewhere in the deep, after the light ended, there was a gloomy cave where no light went. There, if you were brave, was the witch.

But tomorrow was Charymar. Annalyn had work, had to make up for her utter failure last week with the banquet.

So she swam home. Mom was the only one still up. “Do you feel better, polliwog?” she asked, glancing up from her cup of pearl tea. “We’re all worried about you.”

“I do, Mama,” Annalyn said, swimming over for a quick hug. “And I’m sorry for being troublesome.”

Mom smiled at her. “Go to bed, child.”

Annalyn swam to her room, tucked herself beneath the blanket, and slept.

She dreamt of flying.

.

Annalyn woke up early, but swam east. She didn’t go to the shuttle station, and she didn’t eat breakfast, and she didn’t pack a lunch. She swam and swam and swam; when she had to rest, she floated on the surface, soaking in the sun, and then she started swimming again.

When she finally found the sea witch’s lair, Annalyn took a deep breath and swam in. It looked like any other part of the ocean, save for the sign on the kelp - _Enter, all, if you dare_. Annalyn dared. She swam right up the cave’s entrance and knocked on the stone. 

“Come!” a voice shouted. “All the way through.” 

With another fortifying breath, Annalyn went. 

.

“Welcome, child,” the sea witch said, “to my garden,” smiling with bright shark teeth.

Annalyn swallowed heavily, settling onto the floor. “Hi,” she murmured with a shaky voice, swallowing again.

“How may I help you?” the sea witch asked, settling across from Annalyn. She didn’t look monstrous – more like Annalyn’s grandmother, only with a darker tail and whiter hair, and those fearsome, glinting fangs. 

“I – I’ve heard the stories,” Annalyn said. “Of the princess that you – you turned into a land folk. I want…” 

The sea witch chuckled and waved one of her hands dismissively. “That was one of my aunts, little fish,” she said. “I am Yvonna.” She studied Annalyn with a dark gaze. “You want to become a land woman; is that so?”

Annalyn frantically shook her head. “I want to fly!” she said. “Up there!” She gestured towards the stone roof of the cave. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about for days.” 

Yvonna smiled, tilting her head. “That would be a powerful magick,” she said slowly. “What would you give me?” 

In all her wondering, Annalyn hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. Her hand went to her throat and she said, “The princess gave her voice.” 

“And what would _I_ do with your voice?” Yvonna asked, scoffing. “No. Something else.” She tapped her finger against the stone. Then she smiled, slow and cold, and said, “I have it.” She met Annalyn’s gaze and said, “The happiest memory you have.” 

“What?” Annalyn swam backward, shaking her head. 

“Yes,” Yvonna said. “Your most precious memory. Give it to me and I’ll magick you into a bird and let you fly.”

A single memory? For the enormity of the sky? 

“Oh… okay,” Annalyn murmured. 

With another toothy smile, Yvonna set to work. 

Annalyn stayed in the corner, out of the way, though her curiosity finally prompted her to ask, “What is that?” as Yvonna pulled a limp, bedraggled stick-looking thing out of a jar full of bedraggled sitck-looking things. 

“This?” Yvonna said. “This is a feather. Come touch it, child. You’ll soon have a body full of them.”

Annalyn swam over and reached out hesitantly, glancing from Yvonna to the feather. “It’s so soft,” she whispered. “But why is it drooping?” 

Yvonna laughed. “The bird who gave these feathers was never meant for the ocean, little fish. He got lost, you see. His kind belong far inland.” She dropped the feather into the bowl. “That’s the last ingredient, save for one lock of your hair.”

Annalyn wrapped a few strands of her hair around one of her fingers, carefully checking to see if all three of the colors of her hair were there; they were, so she pulled them taut. Yvonna smiled again and Annalyn had to look away because of those teeth as Yvonna cut the hair, then unraveled it from her fingers.

“It’ll be a little while,” Yvonna said. “I must keep a close watch while the potion settles. Explore the garden, if you dare. I’ll find you when the potion is done and your payment due.”

Annalyn nodded and slowly swam into the dark water. There was hardly a current at all, but she just breathed slowly and kept on.

Yvonna’s voice filled the water, slow and deep, as she sang, “Down down down, where the monsters dwell, where the dark eats the light, there you’ll find your magick, there the spark will strike, if only you pay the price.” 

Annalyn shivered, wondering for half a moment what a _spark_ was, before her attention was caught by a carving on the stone wall of Yvonna’s garden.

Yvonna kept singing, “Magick by choice, magick by blood, fear not, my dear, for all deals are good. Down in the deep dark where the monsters stir, down in the deep where no light creeps, down down down, that’s where we are.” She laughed a little bitter chuckle; Annalyn moved on to the next carving. 

.

Annalyn was at the furthest edge of the garden when Yvonna called her back. Yvonna led her into the house and handed Annalyn a small glass bottle. “Drink this on the surface as the sun rises. You will have all day, but as the sun sets across the ocean,” Yvonna said, “you will have a choice to make, Annalyn of the Zanclidae Clan: forever winged and above the water or forever below in the deep.” Yvonna paused as Annalyn brought the bottle close to her eyes; the liquid inside was bright blue. “For your most precious memory, I give you these wings.”

Annalyn nodded. Yvonna gently touched the side of her head and then _pulled_ – it hurt so much that Annalyn cried out, but it was over in a moment. Annalyn blinked up at her, not feeling any different.

“You may sleep here tonight,” Yvonna said. “I’ll wake you before dawn.”

“Thank you!” Annalyn said, clutching the bottle. “Thank you!”

Yvonna smiled. “Go find yourself somewhere to sleep and something to eat, child. You’ll need all your energy for tomorrow.”

.

Annalyn broke the surface just as the sun rose and she drained the bottle down. She felt her entire body shudder and then – 

She leaped out of the water and beat her wings. Again and again, until she was so _high_ – she could see forever. It wasn’t much different from swimming and she whirled and twirled in the sky, into and out of the fluffy white clouds, and she scooped fish out of the sea, diving down faster than she’d ever swum, and then back up _up_ into the sky, higher than the deepest deep, bluer than any water she’d ever known.

When the sun was in the middle of the sky, she saw another bird, diving into a school of fish near the surface, flying back up with his catch. She took off after him, hoping to talk – she’d seen nothing else in the sky all morning.

Annalyn tried to call, “Hello!” but all that came out was a squawk, harsh and jarring. The bird ignored her, anyway, flying towards the sun. She tried again with, “Wait!” but the squawk only sounded plaintive. 

But she was _in_ the sky. Who cared if she was alone? So she climbed again, up above the clouds, and then she dove down, resuming her game. Each time, she tried to go faster, to get higher – she’d only ever dreamed such things were possible. But there she was, in the sky… 

Finally, as the sun started sinking in the west, she coasted along on the wind. The witch had said she must choose as the sun set – but choose what? Who would ever choose anything but the sky? So vast, so peaceful, so beautiful… 

But what of her mother? Dad? Marianna? All of her friends back home, in Atlantita and the palace? She had such a story to tell and no one to listen. And something… something else. She swooped down to skim the surface, trying to remember – what had the price been? Her most precious memory?

She needed to go home for something she couldn’t remember. Didn’t she? But what could be more important than flying? 

As the last ray of light faded, she remembered the sound of a little boy laughing and she thought, _Taliesin_. Yvonna took her little brother as the price for her wings, and it wasn’t – 

_The last light_ , she thought, and then shrieked, “I choose the ocean!” 

Her body shuddered, sharp pain shot through her, and then she was falling from the sky, with a long tail and no wings to slow her. 

She hit the water and sank, still shuddering, gasping for breath, and she remembered her brother, from the moment she first held him to the last time she called him _tadpole_ and promised to be there for his play. “Taliesin,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.” She just floated close to the surface, resting, and watched the moon rise as she thought about her family. 

Annalyn had flown in the sky. She had flown, and it was all she’d imagined and more. It was wonderful, possibly the best day of her life – but.

But.

She had to get home and hug her brother, hug Mom and Dad, and Marianna. Catch up with her friends. Salvage her apprenticeship, if she could – if she wanted to. She had a life beneath the waves; above them, she had only an empty sky.

So she dove back down and headed home.


	2. Glossary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first, I thought about renaming everything so it fit the ocean, but then I decided it was just fun to use normal names for things. However, one thing I can't escape is my love of worldbuilding, so I decided to rename the days of the week. 
> 
> Fun fact: Queen Alina V was originally Queen Attina V, and Queen Attina I was Ariel's (from Disney's _The Little Mermaid_ ) oldest sister, King Triton's heir. However, since this was meant to be a book and have to worry about copyright law, I decided to change it. 
> 
> Anyway, the days of the week: eight of them, for the trident's tip combined with the crown. I decided to have a five day work-week and three day weekend, all named for mythological ocean creatures. 
> 
> I also decided that there should be different races of mermaids, which is where the Clans come in. If I ever turn this into a novel, it'll get so much more detailed. 
> 
> So! Here's the glossary to explain the thing.

**The Clans**

Phycodurus Clan - Leafy seadragon, a kind of seahorse 

Syngnathidae Clan – the family of fish which includes the seahorses, the pipefishes, and the weedy and leafy sea dragons.

Zanclidae Clan – Moorish Idol, a fish 

**Days of the Week**

Mar – Latin for sea or ocean 

Charymar – start of workweek (Monday); named for Charybdis, a giant whirlpool-shaped monster from Greek mythology 

Scyllamar – named for Scylla, a monster from Greek mythology 

Krakenmar – named for the kraken, a giant octopus from Norse mythology 

Luscamar – named for lusca, a giant octopus in Caribbean lore 

Cetumar – end of workweek (Friday); named for Cetus, a giant sea monster in Greek mythology 

Atlantimar – start of weekend; named for Atlantis

Jormungmar – named for Jörmungandr, the World Serpent in Norse mythology 

Tiamatmar – holy day of rest; named for Tiamat, a Babylonian goddess and mother of the world.


End file.
